I don’t collect records; I collect books and a lot of them have art inside. When I’m high on Sunday night and my eyes hunger, I choose from one of the stacks: Spectrum 15, a compilation of 2008’s “contemporary fantastic art.” It’s bound together to keep me on topic; on my laptop it would only take about four minutes to get from fantasy illustration to UFO sighting reports. I love a good rabbit hole, but find that I don’t retain those bundles of information I come across in the digital vacuum. I’d like to discuss the more interesting topics later, but the hunt itself — across obscure websites that search engines will not recall and then back, inevitably through Wikipedia — is always the experience I remember. I overestimate my ability to store the bits I pass as efficiently as a computer. I’m tired from another week of visual overstimulation, so I linger with just one image on page 65. Oh, that’s neat how the daytime moon and that dragon’s milky eye echo one another. Yeah, I like that — what is that dragon licking? Is that a dangling horse head? Whoa… Yes, the saturated blue sky enables an area of high contrast which holds my gaze. I hover there as the dragon rears his head upwards to take the first taste of horse carcass. Below are muddled earth tones and characters that must be disentangled from one another. Once I start, I delight in the wealth of information. Tangential questions arise, but this primitive book technology frustrates my instinct to pursue them on a new tab. Instead, I survey the bits already rattling around in my mind and string a few together to come up with provisional answers — my own stories. I guess you could call this a sensory input breather. I’ll have to re-enter the din on Monday morning.